Some people are magnets for the odd, y’know?
I spent a good portion of today in the hospital, having a ‘procedure’ done. No, it’s nothing serious or anything I’d care to discuss. Suffice to say that this procedure required that the system be clear, clean, and flushed beforehand. :moon:
So for at least one day this year, I can say I was not full of shit. :yesyesyes:
I ALWAYS have interesting experiences in hospitals, and always have. From the time I was 20 and having my tonsils out, and had a very solemn priest come to my bedside to tell me my family wanted him to discuss the reading of the last rites with me (I’m not Catholic, and he had the wrong room), to being admitted into Emergency, and having the crackhead in the hall right across from me set himself on fire in his bed.
I ALWAYS have interesting experiences in hospitals. :poof:
Today was relatively quiet, actually. A friend drove me, we arrived safely despite a small ice storm, I registered, was given a locker, and donned the traditional hospital garment, specifically tailored to embarrass the patient and make it clear who’s Dominant in that particular situation.
A quick trip to the bathroom was in order, and with a flourish of the paper seatcover, I settled in. And as I sat, looking forward to it all being over, there was a vigorous knock at the door.
“Hello in there.”
Startled, I stared stupidly at the door. It was a male voice, strong and confident. Panicked, I glanced around. Had I entered the wrong bathroom??! One toilet, no sign of a urinal, & this was where the nurse had directed me… “Um…hello?” I shouted back.
“How ya doin’ in there?”
Well, hell—what was this? The Porcelain Police? “Oh, I’m just fine,” I answered lamely. I was SO trying to get going, but the toilet paper was single ply, and tore off after every single sheet. That was it, I figured. I’d used too much paper, and somebody was coming to bust me for it…
“You SURE you’re okay?”
I’m frantically littering the floor with bits of paper. “Yeah, I’m just real sure…”
“Mind if I come in?”
I froze. “Uh…” Was there something on my chart that said I was incapable of going potty by myself?! “Uh…yeah, I think I would mind that…”
His voice took on a sing-song quality. “Your little light is on.”
I’m not sure why I looked there, but a quick peek between my legs assured me that was not true. “Light?”
“The light that says you have a problem and need help.”
My eyes fell on the wall beside me, where a cord hung that said, “pull string if you need assistance”. And above that a wee light was pulsing. “But—but I didn’t pull the string!”
“You must have. The light is on.”
Groping at the wall, I pushed a button by the pulsing light, and it immediately went off. Silence outside. My rescuer seemed to have vanished.
I cautiously emerged from the bathroom. All seemed well in the hall outside. LPNs were coming and going, there was no sign of a male nurse anywhere. And my friend, who’d been using a nearby phone, swore he heard and saw nothing.
And no, I don’t believe that pulling some cord–ANY cord–will magically produce a big, husky man to come to the rescue, or in bathroom guardian angels. :razz:
But I think I’ll start carrying a string in my purse from now on. Just a simple little string. A string I can whip out when I’m in trouble sometimes. Give it a tug. You know…
Just in case. 
